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Authors: Steven Brust

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BOOK: Five Hundred Years After (Phoenix Guards)
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“The Lady Aliera and Sethra Lavode,” said the corporal on duty.
“Ah,” said Khaavren. “Well, they may enter.”
“My dear Captain,” said Sethra without preamble, speaking even as she crossed the threshold a step before Aliera. “My dear Captain, you have led us a merry chase.”
“In truth?”
“In truth. We have been here, and all the way back to the Imperial Wing, and around the rooms you are known to frequent, and once more to the Imperial Wing, and at last back here to your office, whence we started our search.”
“I am sorry,” said Khaavren, “to have discommoded you. Yet, as you know, my time is not my own. In fact, it is, at this moment, even less my own than usual, wherefore I’m afraid I can spare none of it for conversation, however pleasant that conversation might be.”
“Oh, we quite understand,” said Aliera. “Duty waits for no one.”
“Exactly.”
“Yet, it is duty that brings us here—in fact, your duty. Or, perhaps we ought to say, a certain duty you may have been assigned.”
Khaavren felt the blow in his heart, yet he gave no sign of it on his countenance. “A certain duty I may have been assigned? Come, what can you mean?”
“We will tell you,” said Aliera.
“I ask nothing better,” said Khaavren.
“Then attend.”
Sethra said, “We wish to know, insofar as you are allowed to tell us—”
“For,” put in Aliera, “you may not be allowed to tell us, and if you cannot speak of these matters, we understand and will not press you.”
“Yes, yes,” said Khaavren. “Go on.”
“You may have received certain orders,” Sethra began again. “And we wish to know—”
“If you are allowed to tell us,” put in Aliera, with a glance at the Enchantress of Dzur Mountain.
“—If you have been given these orders.”
“Well,” said Khaavren, still struggling to maintain his composure. “You perceive I am often given an order of which I am not allowed to speak—of which, in fact, it would be nothing short of treasonous to speak.”
“Yes,” said Aliera. “And if such is the case with these orders, well, we shall not require that you reveal them.”
“That … that is well,” said Khaavren.
“Nevertheless,” said Sethra, a trifle impatiently, “we wish to ask.”
“Oh, by all means,” said Khaavren. “Yes, certainly, you may ask.”
“Then we shall,” said Sethra.
“Do so,” said Khaavren.
“Have you then,” said Sethra, “been given any orders that—”
“Yes?” said Khaavren, who began to feel that the clasp of his uniform cloak, which was exactly as he’d worn it every day for five hundred and thirty years, was too tight. “Orders that—”
“Orders that have something to do with the Lady Aliera?”
Khaavren blinked and attempted to stall for time, hoping to think of some means out of the uncomfortable situation in which he found himself. “How, with the Lady Aliera?” said Khaavren. “Why, any orders might have something to do with the Lady Aliera, for her interests could lie anywhere, and I cannot know what might have something to do with her.”
“I meant,” said Sethra sharply, “more directly.”
“Well, that is—”
Aliera suddenly cut in, “Have you orders to arrest me, Captain? For, if so, I am here, and I have no intention of resisting, but will instead appeal, first of all, to my father, next to the Dragon Council, and then—”
Khaavren sprang to his feet. “Arrest
you
? That is what you think? You think I have been ordered to arrest
you
?”
“Why, we don’t
think
so, Captain,” said Sethra. “And yet, we know that Aliera has offended certain people, and we thought it possible—how, could it be, Captain, that you are laughing at me?”
Khaavren controlled himself and said, “Oh, not the least in the world, I assure you. And, moreover, I assure you that I have been given no orders to arrest the Lady Aliera. The Gods! If I had, I should have carried them out the instant you set foot in my office.”
“Well,” said Aliera, “I understand that.”
“As do I,” said Sethra.
“Then,” said Khaavren, sinking back into his chair with a feeling of immeasurable relief, “there is no more to be said, except that, indeed, there is
much that needs to be done, and precious little time to do it, wherefore I am forced, if you will excuse me, to bid you both a good day.”
They bowed to the Captain, wished him well, promised to see him on another occasion, and took their leave. As the Captain turned once more to considering the orders he must write, and how to couch them in terms that would produce exactly the results he desired, allowing for the interpretations of Sergeant, subalterns, and corporals, we will follow Aliera and Sethra out into the wide hall before the entrance to the Guard’s sub-wing of the Dragon Wing, where they exchanged words that cannot fail to be of interest.
“What did you think?” said Aliera.
“He would not lie,” said Sethra. “Moreover, he was not lying. Nevertheless—”
“Yes, nevertheless, he was concealing something.”
“Indeed he was,” said Sethra. “And we should, no doubt, have discovered it if you been less insistent on that point of courtesy to which you kept returning. Should such a matter come up in the future, you would well advised—”
“Perhaps,” said Aliera with a shrug. “And yet, you will admit that it was hardly a mere point of courtesy. To an officer—”
“I give you my word,” said Sethra, “that I have been an officer, and I know what orders are. So, for that matter, does Lord Khaavren. He would have known perfectly well when to keep mum without—”
“Oh, of a certainty he would have known,” said Aliera. “But it seemed to me that he must know we understood, and were not attempting—”
“To let him know,” said Sethra. “Is one thing. Yet, by insisting, you prevented us from learning just what was on his mind, and I, for one, am curious. Just a few words from him would have been sufficient to have told me a great deal. I hope you remember this next time such a situation occurs.”
Aliera, who began to grow somewhat warm, said, “Then, if I understand you, it was all right to mention it, but not to continue repeating it to the point of becoming tedious?”
“Exactly.”
“As you are becoming tedious with your lesson?”
“You say I am tedious?” said Sethra coldly.
“The very word,” said Aliera.
“Perhaps it is required when dealing with a pupil who fails to understand what is so obvious—”
“I do not recall asking you to teach me anything.”
“Yet, my dear, you so clearly require it.”
“Then perhaps you would care to give me a lesson on another subject entirely?”
“I take your meaning,” said Sethra. “And I would be delighted.”
“Take care, however, that your pupil does not surpass you—the embarrassment might kill you.”
“I accept the risk. Come, there is a courtyard just through these doors, not a hundred meters from this spot, paved with flat stonework and altogether suitable.”
“I know it; a charming place. Let us find witnesses and a judge, neither of whom can be far.”
“I would think they’d abound in such a place.”
“Indeed,” said Aliera, “here are two acquaintances who will serve admirably. Greetings, my dear Tazendra. Pel, allow me to name Sethra Lavode.”
For just a moment, the unflappable Yendi appeared taken aback. He recovered quickly, however, bowed, and said, “I am honored to meet you, madam. Indeed, I am.”
“And I to meet you,” said Sethra. “For all of your activities are not unknown to me, and those of which I have heard I honor.”
Pel bowed deeply, and seemed about to speak, but Aliera broke in, saying, “Perhaps you could perform a service for us. If you, Pel, would act as my friend, and if the good Tazendra will stand for Sethra Lavode, we have a matter—”
“Alas,” said Pel. “You have no time for such games; they must be postponed.”
“How?” said Aliera. “
We
have no time?”
“You in particular, Lady Aliera.”
“And yet, why not? I know of nothing that presses me so urgently that I cannot attend to the desires of my friend here for a few thrusts loyally given.”
“You cannot?” said Pel. “But I can.”
“Indeed? What is it, then?” said Aliera.
“Yes,” said Sethra. “I am also curious.”
“As am I,” said Tazendra.
“Then I will satisfy your curiosity. But, before I do so, I must ask a question.”
“If it will help,” said Aliera shrugging, “you may ask ten.”
“I have been waiting for you, Aliera, because, as I was leaving Khaavren’s office, I noticed you enter, along with this lady,” here he bowed, “whom I did not, I must confess, recognize.”
“Well, yes,” said Aliera, “we have seen Lord Khaavren.”
“And—forgive me if my question is indiscreet, but I assure you I have no choice—he made no indication that he might have intentions toward you? Intentions, that is, that fall within his capacity as Captain of the Guard?”
“You are asking,” stated Sethra, “if we are certain he has no intentions of arresting the Lady Aliera.”
“You are perspicacious,” said Pel, bowing.
“Shards!” said Aliera. “That is the very subject about which we spoke to him!”
“And?” said Pel.
“He denied any such intention,” said Aliera.
Pel nodded. “I feared as much.”
“How,” said Sethra. “You feared it?”
“Exactly.”
“Can you now,” said Aliera, “explain why we have no time to spare?”
“It is simple enough,” said Pel. “You must, without delay, return to your father and explain to him that, in just a very few moments, Khaavren will be arriving to arrest him in the name of the Emperor.”
Which Treats of Khaavren’s Mission
And How He Carried It Out,
And of a Conversation with a Noble
Of the House of the Phoenix;
With Notes Pertaining to
The Composition of Orchestras.
 
 
 
K
HAAVREN SPENT A FEW MOMENTS explaining to Thack the gist of his orders regarding the placement of troops, the calling up of reserves, the reinforcement of Guard detachments at the Iorich Wing, and the other measures he thought would be helpful. Then he put into Thack’s hand these same orders, written out in more detail and signed, after which he called for a horse to be brought round to the door.
Though he was not happy about the delays forced on him by the interruptions and by the need to write out and deliver the orders to which we have just alluded, our Tiassa was not the sort of man to allow himself to tangle his belt over what was unavoidable. Nevertheless, he was keenly aware that time was continuing to flow at a rate of sixty minutes each hour, and so, without wasting a single one of these precious minutes, he mounted upon the roan mare that had been brought for him, and set off at a good speed for the Gate of the Dragon.
As always, it was difficult to negotiate some of the streets, but his urgency helped to clear the way—he charged groups of pedestrians as if he had no care about running them down, wherefore the pedestrians, somehow aware of this even when they were looking in another direction, hastened to give room to the galloping horse whose rider, head bent over his horse’s neck, glared ahead with such a fierce expression.
Once past the gate and on the open road, Khaavren gave the mare her head, determined to reach Adron’s encampment as soon as he could, even if it meant killing his horse. As it happened, his horse, though foaming and sweating, was alive when it reached the road to the camp. This was a long, narrow path, and at the midpoint, Khaavren remembered, Adron had set up his guard post. In fact, Khaavren’s sharp eyes could distinguish three figures waiting there. With gentle pressure of his knees, he caused his horse to slow
just the least bit, while he considered what it meant that there were three soldiers, instead of the two he had observed on his previous visit. He caused his horse to slow still more as he approached and considered. Though he arrived at no certain answer to his question, it did make him alert and watchful as he drew rein before the three Dragonlords in the uniforms of the Breath of Fire Battalion.
“I give you good day in the name of the Emperor,” said Khaavren.
“And we give you good day as well,” said one of the Dragonlords, a woman with short hair and sharply hooked nose, “in the name of the Emperor, and in the name of His Highness, Adron e’Kieron, Duke of Eastmanswatch, at whose camp you are now arrived.”
“This is the camp of Lord Adron?” said Khaavren.
“None other,” said the Dragonlord.
“Well, this camp is then just what I have been seeking, for I have an errand to His Highness that trembles with impatience and bites its lips with frustration at any delay; wherefore, good soldier, I ask that you let me by so that I and my errand can come to an understanding with each other. I am called Khaavren of Castlerock, and I have the honor to be Captain of His Majesty’s Imperial Guard, and it is on His Majesty’s behalf that I and my errand are come.”
The soldier bowed, “I would like nothing more than to give you and your errand a good welcome, but, alas! His Highness has forbidden errands of any sort upon the site of our camp, and my companions and I fear that you would have some trouble leaving your errand behind, wherefore we hope that you will take no offense if we cannot give way before you.”
Khaavren looked at her, and at her two companions, one being a tall woman who reminded Khaavren of Tazendra and had a short sword at either hip, the other a great, burly man like a small mountain, with a sword as tall as Khaavren himself. The Captain then looked behind them, at the encampment half a kilometer further down the road, and he could not fail to notice, even at that distance, that the camp was being struck, and preparations were being made for the entire battalion to move, and quickly at that. He also noticed that, stretching out to both sides as far as he could see, was a tall, sharp-edged wire fence, of the sort that could be set up in mere moments, and which effectively prevented him from riding around the check-post—he would have to go through this place, which meant through these three determined Dragonlords.
“Nevertheless,” said Khaavren, “I must have words with His Highness.”
“I am sorry,” said soldier. “My orders absolutely forbid it.”
“Well, I understand orders.”
“That is well.”
“I have some, too.”
“That doesn’t startle me.”
“Mine require that I pass.”
“Ours require us to bar your way.”
“Then we shall have to fight.”
“Of that, there can be no doubt. Yet, before we do so—”
“Yes? Before we do?”
“I have been instructed to give you a message.”
“To hear, or to bear to another?”
“To bear to another.”
“You wish me to have a second errand before I have completed my first?”
The Dragonlord shrugged. “It is hard, I know.”
“Well, what is this message?”
“It is to His Majesty.”
“Yes. And the text?”
“His Highness will submit to arrest—”
“Ah!”
“—upon receiving an apology from His Majesty for His Majesty’s lack of respect toward His Highness’s daughter.”
This time Khaavren shrugged. “What is your name,” he said.
“I am Geb, and these are my companions, Dohert and Eftaan.”
“Very well, my dear Geb. I hear your message, and will certainly undertake to deliver it, yet I can assure His Highness (and I will so assure him in person after you and I have finished our discussion), that His Majesty will not take kindly to being spoken to in such terms.”
“You perceive,” said Geb, “that, having done my duty, I have no concern for such matters.”
“I understand.”
“Well, in that case, unless you have more messages—”
“No, that was all.”
“Nothing remains to be done, except for you and your cohorts to stand aside.”
“It is impossible.”
“Out of my way, in the name of the Emperor,” said Khaavren. “You must stand aside at once or be ridden down!”
“Stand aside? Never in the world, my love. You perceive we were not ordered here so that we would step aside the first time we were asked.”
“You will not be asked again,” said Khaavren, preparing to spur his horse directly into them.
“So much the better,” remarked the other women, the one called Dohert, and as she spoke, she threw a short javelin into Khaavren’s horse, which reared, stumbled and fell. When the horse reared, Khaavren slid off its back and, after rolling once, came to his feet.
“I regret having to slaughter your horse,” remarked Dohert.
“You will come to regret it more,” said Khaavren, drawing his sword with his right hand while taking a flashstone into his left.
All three soldiers drew, but they had not even placed themselves on their guard before Khaavren discharged the stone into the face of the man called Eftaan, who was half a step ahead of his companions. He screamed and fell backward, and began moaning. At the same time as Khaavren discharged the stone, he also delivered a good cut at Dohert, forcing her to take a backward step.
Geb thrust for Khaavren’s head in an attack so quick that Khaavren was only able to duck it in part—the point scraped along his temple, and for a moment his vision failed. He stepped back, crying, “If you are acting under orders, this is high treason, if not, it is low rebellion. Think of what you are doing!”
“It’s all the same to me,” said Geb, as she stepped in again, striking Khaavren’s sword so hard that it was carried far out of line, as well as making his grip falter so that he nearly dropped the weapon.
“It is as well for me that my flashstone has a second charge,” remarked Khaavren, as he set it off once more. Geb gave a sharp cry and then fell both backward and silent. The woman called Dohert, however, was now charging, and Khaavren, who had not yet managed to get a good grip on his sword, could think of nothing to do except throw the stone at her head.
She ducked, and, at the same time, gave Khaavren a good cut in his side, which he answered with a cut that nearly severed her sword arm. She stepped back once more, showing no sign of discomfort, but, rather, grinning at him as if she liked nothing better in the world than such a bloody battle, and said, “You ought to have brought along some help—in truth, my Lord Adron expected you to.” As she spoke, she also dropped the sword from her right hand, though she still held the other in her left.
“Then he expected you and your friends to be killed?”
“We volunteered,” she said. “And now, prepare yourself, for I am about to have the honor to charge you.”
“Well,” said Khaavren laconically.
She did, indeed, charge; Khaavren parried a vicious cut at his neck, but discovered that his legs felt weak, no doubt from the blow to his head, so that he was obliged to take a step backward. Dohert stepped in again, but Khaavren
abruptly moved forward to meet her as she was preparing another cut, and found her unprepared for the sudden changes in distance and timing; he passed his sword through her body.
“Oh, well struck,” she said admiringly, and cut once more for his head.
Again he ducked, and again it was too late: he felt a sick, horrid contact with the side of his head. Fortunately, his opponent was already falling, and, in falling, her arm twisted, so that only the flat of the blade struck Khaavren. Still, for a time he saw only darkness and was certain that he had reached the end of the time allotted him by the fates for this incarnation—he thought of Daro, and the thought brought him more pain than his wounds, until he realized that all of his foes were fallen, and that he was master of the field.
He sat down on the ground, breathing heavily. “I must bind my wounds,” he told himself. “To die now, after surviving the battle, would be inconvenient. I must cut strips from my cloak, and … but what is this? The ground against my face? Rise, Khaavren, rise! Has time slipped by? Is it dark night already? And what sounds are these that bend my ears, so like the din of battle? Have I died in truth, and does Deathgate Falls sound like steel as it crashes? Are these smooth hands my friends and family, sending me over the Falls to my fate? I cannot recall my past lives, as one is supposed to in the River of Sleep.
“Ah, but surely these are the visions of paradise, for here, before my eyes, is my own beloved Daro, though stained with blood. Daro, Daro, if this be sleep, let me never waken, but let this vision remain before my eyes for eternity!”
“Hush, good Captain, and do not stir so.”
“Daro! What? You? Here? Are you real, and not some phantasm conjured by my poor, wounded body and poor, weakened mind?”
“Yes, my dear Captain, it is I, and I am real, and you must not move so much, for you have lost nearly all of your blood, and, alas, I have not the skill of a physicker.”
“But what brings you here? And, for all that, where is here?”
“You lie amid the slain, outside of the city.”
“Adron’s encampment? Then I am still here?”
“You are here, but there is no encampment. In truth, there are signs that a good troop was quartered here not long ago, but now we are alone, save for a few corpses.”
“Three, are there not, and all Dragonlords?”
“All Dragonlords indeed, my Captain, but they number closer to five than to three.”
“Five? Five? And yet I remember—”
“Hush now. Three of them are the work of your hand, the other two I will claim credit for.”
“You? Two of them?”
“Bah. It was nothing. One at a time.”
“Yet they were Lord Adron’s picked men!”
“Well, what of that? I am a Tiassa.”
“So you are, my sweet one. I had thought myself dead, and now I find—”
“Your wounds are bound as well as I can bind them; now we must see if you can stand, and then if you can sit in a saddle. To be sure, I will sit in front of you, and you need only hold onto me, and we will attempt to bring you back to the city, where you can be physicked.”
“And yet, I still do not understand how you came to be here.”
“You do not understand, my friend? Well, no more do I. Only, as I sat in your house, so charmingly filled with trinkets that called you to mind and allowed me to read ever more deeply of your character, well, it came to me that you were in danger, and that I should borrow a horse without delay.”
“But how did you find me?”
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